


but i don't know how

by whitefang (radialarch)



Category: Captain America (Movies)
Genre: Captain America: The First Avenger, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-12-30
Updated: 2015-02-04
Packaged: 2018-03-04 10:33:15
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 1,005
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3064553
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/radialarch/pseuds/whitefang
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Steve brings Bucky back to himself, again and again. </p><p>[A series of post-Azzano ficlets.]</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

"Will you let me see," Steve says. Bucky’s just back from medical, a bandage wrapped round his elbow; he drops onto the cot and looks at Steve for a moment before he strips off his shirt.

Bucky’s body is a mess of bruises. Steve reaches to trace one blooming over Bucky’s ribs, its edges fading into yellow. Bucky’s set his jaw and is looking past Steve’s face, but Steve can feel the shortness of his exhalations, the way his thin chest hitches with each breath.

"God, Buck," Steve says, his throat tight. "You almost — you could have—"

"I didn’t," Bucky says sharply. "Steve. I didn’t."

Bucky’s shoulders are trembling under Steve’s hands. Steve rubs his thumb over the line of Bucky’s collarbone.

“I should let you rest,” he says. “I can go—”

“Don’t,” Bucky says. and then his hand is cupping the back of Steve’s head, pulling him in. He bites at Steve’s lips until they part open, and then licks into his mouth.

“New body, right?” he says, with a queer little smile. “Let’s put it to the test.”

“You’re  _hurt_ ,” Steve says. “I’m not going to—”

“Please,” Bucky says, and for the first time his voice is shaking. “Just do this for me, Steve.”

And Steve says, “Okay.”

He’s had months to get used to his body, but he feels strange all over again under Bucky’s gaze. “That’s some work they did on you,” Bucky says, distant.

“I haven’t changed,” Steve says, a little desperately. “It’s still me, Buck.”

“Yeah,” Bucky says. “I know.” His expression softens. “Come on, then,” he says. “I want you in me.”

They don’t have anything. Steve spits on his fingers and presses a finger into Bucky, then another, as Bucky trembles.

“That’s enough,” Bucky says, his voice strangled. “Just do it, Steve, come on, now—”

So Steve strokes himself to hardness and presses into Bucky, slowly; Bucky’s tight and Steve is panting, his breaths stirring the hairs at the back of Bucky’s neck.

Bucky is silent as Steve rocks inside him, his face pressed into his forearm. A shudder goes through him when Steve presses his mouth to Bucky’s shoulder.

“Buck,” Steve says, “Bucky, look at me, please—”

But Bucky shakes his head; he’s touching himself in small, quick strokes and his body turns even tighter, and then Steve is coming, his teeth clenched together to stop from making a sound.

He slips out of Bucky and suddenly feels like a stranger. “Buck,” he says, and touches Bucky’s hand, questioningly. “Are you—”

Bucky shakes off his touch with a jerk. “I’m fine,” he says. His grin is very white. “Just tired.”

“Should let you sleep,” Steve says at once. This, at least, is familiar — he presses Bucky down into the cot, and Bucky goes without much resistance, limp under Steve’s hands.

“Don’t fuss so much,” Bucky says, but already his words are sleepy. “‘m all right, Steve.”

“All right, Buck,” Steve says, and listens to Bucky’s breathing go slow and steady.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Something quick I wrote after listening to [New Ceremony](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=baluqma_MEM) about two hundred times. It happens /o\


	2. Chapter 2

"I missed you so goddamn much,” Bucky says fiercely. “God, Steve, you’re here.”

“Yeah, Buck,” Steve says, and he carefully cups the back of Bucky’s head, his fingers rasping through the short hairs. “I wanted — I didn’t know —”

“Do it,” Bucky says, almost like a dare. “Show me.”

So Steve pulls him close, presses their mouths together. It’s nothing like dying and everything like it, Steve’s body an anchor beneath him and fire in his veins.

And it’s not enough for Bucky, not enough to drive the tremor from his hands and the rattle in his lungs. “More,” he says, “Steve, please—”

“What if I hurt you,” Steve asks. Bucky can hear that he’s terrified, more than when he’d found him strapped to a lab bench, more than when he’d faced a wall of flames and told Bucky to go. “I can’t — Bucky, I can’t—”

And Bucky lies loose-limbed and calm under Steve’s body and tells him, “I want you to.”

He takes hold of Steve’s hand, which is shaking. He curls the fingers around his throat, squeezes. “Go on,” he says, and grins with all his teeth. “I want it.”

Steve tightens his grip, uncertain. His mouth is open and his tongue is touching his top teeth.

“Harder, Rogers,” Bucky says. “That all you got?”

And then Steve’s mouth clicks closed and he presses down, hard, cutting off Bucky’s flow of air.

For a moment Bucky doesn’t feel anything. For a moment Bucky’s afraid that they’ve taken even this away from him.

Then his chest is heaving and his lungs are aching, and still Steve’s hand is across his throat. Bucky is in love, Bucky is on fire, Bucky is hard and leaking against his stomach—

And the air explodes into his lungs.

“Are you okay,” Steve is asking. “Bucky.”

“Yeah,” Bucky rasps, feels the air scrape along his throat. “It’s fine, it’s fine. Please.”

Steve’s hand is back on him. Steve straddles Bucky’s stomach and wraps both hands around Bucky’s neck. He can feel the tips of Steve’s fingers like bruises.

He hears himself whining as he thrusts his hips up. Steve grins a little at that, strokes the hair off his face. His lips brush against Bucky’s ear and he says: “Can you come like this?”

Bucky thinks,  _yes, yes, yes._

His heart is rattling fast under his ribs and he feels slack, liquid-limbed. He reaches up, dream-like, and touches Steve’s cheek.

Steve’s stubble’s coming in. It rasps underneath his fingers. It makes him feel raw, cut open.

Then Steve’s bending his head down, fastening his mouth over Bucky’s. “C’mon,” he says, sweet and slow, “show me.”

And Bucky arches up. Steve is breathing into his mouth, the air brushing against Bucky’s tongue. It slips like silk into his lungs and Bucky is gasping against Steve, he is clinging to him, and he’s coming, coming, shivering all over.

“Yeah,” Steve says, “that’s it,” and Steve’s laying him down, Steve’s wiping the sweat away from his face, and Bucky shakes, shakes, sinks into himself.


End file.
